Ghosts of the Imminently Deceased
by Diswrit
Summary: 1995 - Alice has moved on with her life after the Winchesters tore through it years earlier. Two chance encounters drudge up old wounds - The first with her not-quite-yet deceased Grandmother, and the second with someone she's tried to forget since he left her alone in an abandoned church. One-shot, set between Alice's parting with the Winchesters, and her re-entry into their lives


February 1st of 1995 found Alice Smith in a bar. To say she was shaken would have been an understatment. She had run into herself, in the most literal sense of the word. Granted, it was her five-year-old self. The more she thought back to that day though, the more she remembered. She gazed into the caramel liquid in her glass, revisiting the memory from the perspective of her five year old self.  
They had been chasing a demon across the country, and had stopped at gas station. Little Alice had been so bored, waiting in the stuffy car for her Grandmother return. Allison, her older sister, was passed out, so they couldn't do anything together. Even if she had been awake, Little Alice doubted Allison would have been in the mood to play. The demon thrown her against a wall, and broken two of her ribs a few states back. Gazing out the window of the car lazily, Little Alice had spotted a flash of ginger. A cat that had just sauntered around the side of the gas station. Her little face had broken into a grin, and she had opened the car door, starting after it.  
"Kitty, kitty," she called. She turned the corner, and started petting the cat, who rubbed against her and purred. It was such a fat, friendly thing.  
After a few moments, a door opened, and the cat hissed, and fled quickly. Little Alice had looked up to see a teenage girl emerge from a door, a bathroom key dangling from her left hand. When the girl saw Little Alice, her eyes widened, and the key fell from her hand.  
"You- you..." the girl trailed off, staring wordlessly at Little Alice.  
"Do I know you?" Little Alice had asked. The older girl looked vaguely familiar.  
"I- you-"  
"Alice?"  
Little Alice stood quickly, and turned to see her grandmother standing behind her, hands on hips.  
"Back to the car," she ordered briskly. Little Alice obeyed quickly, glancing back at the girl before hurrying off. The teenager was looking at Grandmother so oddly. Grandmother didn't seem to notice her, and followed Little Alice quickly.  
Alice shook her head as if to chase away the memory, and took a swig of her drink. She hated herself for freezing as she had. It was just so much of a shock for her. She had never, not in her wildest dreams, imagined she would see her Grandmother again. Now, all she could think about now was what might have been. If she hadn't been so stupid, she could have stopped Grandmother, and warned her... come to think of it, she still could. She struggled to remember the route they had taken on that particular hunt, but god damn her, she had been five at the time, and road signs had been the least of her worries.  
Her musings were interrupted by another teenager plopping down wearily in the seat next to her. "Hi," he said. She rolled her eyes, and made a point of not looking at him. She could practically feel the flirtatious smile plastered over his features, even while ignoring him.  
"You know, I've been watching you, and if I had to guess, I'd say you've got something on your mind," he said.  
"You've been watching me?" she said, chuckling. "You know, when you're trying to pick up girls, the last thing you say is 'I've been watching you'."  
He chuckled as she waved to the bartender, pointing to her empty glass.  
"Fair enough. Will you at least let me pay for that?" he asked.  
His voice actually sounded a bit familiar. Her curiousity piqued, she glanced over at him. When she saw him for the first time, it took all she had not to fall off her stool in surprise.  
"Um..." She cleared her throat, composing herself quickly. "Well, I'm not one to turn down a free drink," she said.  
He smiled, and turned to the bartender. "Get us two more of whatever she had," he said.  
Alice watched him as he spoke. While she hadn't seen Dean Winchester for almost three years, she had far from forgotten him. Now, here he was, sitting next to her. He was much younger than the Dean she had met in 1992. Probably around seventeen. He could have passed as twenty or so easily though, but not because of physical aging. He had that air about him, the one all hunters had. It told you they were old at heart.  
He turned back to her, and smiled again. She forced herself to stop staring at him.  
"I'm Dean," he said.  
"Alice," she replied.  
"So," he said as the bartender set their drinks down. "You wanna talk about what's driving you to drink?"  
Alice snorted as he sipped his drink. "You wanna tell me why you're in a bar at all?"  
"Sorry?" he asked.  
"How old are you? Seventeen? Eighteen, tops?" she asked.  
"Twenty-one," he replied. He shot her a knowing, amused look that told her he had guessed she was underage as well. "How about you?"  
"Twenty-one," she replied, smirking at him. "Sure," he said sarcastically.  
"Seriously though, you couldn't think of a better way to spend your night?" she asked.  
"I could ask you the same question," Dean replied.  
"Honestly? I had better things to do. But hey, when life gives you lemons, drink 'til you get the taste out of your mouth," Alive said.  
"I'll drink to that," Dean said, raising his cup to toast. She clinked her glass against his lightly, and sipped the sharp, bitter liquid slowly. It was only her second, and while she had planned to lose herself at the bottom of her glass, she decided to hold off on that, at least for a while. "You know, you look kind of familiar. Have we met?" Alice asked experimentally.  
Dean studied her for a moment, then shrugged. "Don't think so. I meet a lot of people though, so it's hard to say."  
"Really? You travel a lot?" Alice asked.  
"What makes you think that?" Dean asked.  
"You've got a certain look to you," Alice replied simply.  
"Well you know what I think?" Dean asked.  
"What?" Alice said.  
"I think it takes one to know one," Dean said.  
Alice smiled. "Guilty as charged," she said.  
"So what's your situation?" Dean asked.  
Alice thought for a moment. "Complicated," she said finally. "Yours?"  
"Same here," Dean said. "So, you still haven't told me why you're so gloomy. Or is it complicated?"  
"You have no idea," Alice said, downing the last of her drink and signalling the bartender for another. Dean was still watching her expectantly.  
She sighed. "I just... I ran into a few people I never thought I'd see again."  
"In a good way, or a bad way?" Dean asked.  
Alice considered that for a moment. "Both, I guess," she said finally. The bartender brought her drink, and she took a long swig. "What about you?" she asked, turning the focus away from herself. "Do you have something on your mind, or are you just here to pick up girls?"  
Dean frowned theatrically. "I'm not here to pick up girls," he said.  
"Could've fooled me," Alice said. "Alright, let's say I was," Dean said. "How would you say I'm doing?"  
Alice shrugged. "Not bad."  
"Not bad?" Dean asked critically.  
"Well, in your defense, you haven't tried any pathetic pickup lines. You're also not acting like a pushy asshole. You do come off as dangerous though. Like I said, you're not doing bad," Alice explained.  
"You know, girls don't usually give you advice on how to pick them up like that," Dean said.  
"I guess I'm not your usual, run of the mill girl," Alice said. She knocked back the rest of her drink, and Dean frowned when she signalled for another.  
"That was at least your third," he said.  
"Yeah, and I can still see straight," Alice said. She squinted, and shook her head to clear it. "Sort of, anyway."  
"Do you have someone to drive you home?" Dean asked.  
"Home..." Alice trailed off. "Unfortunately, I don't have one of those."  
"Then where are you staying?" Dean asked.  
"Gray Flamingo hotel," Alice replied.  
"Hey, what do you know? I've got a room there too," Dean said. "How about you let me give you a ride, since it's on the way?"  
Alice raised her eyebrows at him. "I've known you for about ten minutes. You could be anyone," she said.  
"So could you," Dean replied steadily.  
Alice chuckled, realizing that in Dean's case, it was true. He didn't know who she was. She, on the other hand, already had a pretty good idea of who he was. Or, at least, who he would turn out to be. She actually did not know who he was at this point in his life. For all she knew, he could have gone through a rapist/serial killer phase.  
"You know what, forget that last drink," Alice called to the bartender. "Just bring the tab."  
Dean pulled out his wallet, and Alice watched him silently as he paid. She stood, and started for the door, Dean following her.  
"I hope you drove here, because I walked," Alice said.  
"No, I drove," Dean said. He walked up to a black 67 Impala, and Alice nodded slowly. She had seen this particular car, driven by one John Winchester.  
"Nice wheels," she said appreciatively.  
"Thanks," Dean said, grinning proudly. "I just got it."  
"Really? Who gave it to you?" Alice asked.  
Dean frowned. "Why does someone have to have given it to me?" he asked.  
Alice paused for a moment, fearing she had slipped up. She had figured that if the car belonged to John, he must have given it to Dean, but Dean didn't know that she knew his father. Or that she knew him.  
"No offense, but you don't look like you could afford to buy it yourself," she lied quickly.  
"Ouch," Dean said. "Sadly, you're right. My Dad gave it to me for my birthday three days ago."  
Just like she'd thought.  
"Congrats," she said. He started the car, and a question occurred to her. "How old are you, really?" she asked.  
"Sixteen," he replied easily. Alice raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Wow. Again, no offense, but you look old for sixteen. In a good way, I mean."  
Dean chuckled uncertainly. "Thanks... I think. What about you? I'm guessing you're not really drinking age," he said.  
"I'm seventeen," Alice said.  
"I figured you were around there somewhere," Dean said. "So, if it's not prying too much, why are you staying at a motel?"  
"I could ask you the same thing," Alice replied. "I mean, unless it's prying too much."  
"I'm travelling with my brother and my Dad," Dean replied, taking Alice by surprise. She had not expected him to answer. "I'm... travelling too, but I'm doing it alone," Alice said.  
"Why alone?" Dean asked.  
"Well, for a while, my grandmother and my sister were with me. They left though, so now it's just me," Alice said carefully.  
"Why'd they leave?" Dean asked.  
"You just want to know everything about me, don't you?" Alice said abruptly.  
"I'd like to know whatever you'll let me," Dean said. "But if something's off limits, just say so, and I won't ask."  
Alice snorted. "The list would be shorter if I just told you what isn't off limits," she muttered. She spotted the hotel, and pointed it out. "That's the place."  
"I know, I've got a room here too, remember?" Dean said.  
"Right," Alice said. She had forgotten.  
Dean pulled into the lot, and parked near the office. He got out ahead of Alice, crossed over to her side of the car, and opened the door for her. She climbed out, and considered him for a minute. He watched her intently, a clear question shining through his eyes, and Alice knew she had a choice to make. She could not help but remember the last time she had seen him. Yes, it had hurt her when he left, but she had gotten over it a long time ago. Now though, she was forced to face the possibility that she could have him for good. Maybe if she told him she was a hunter too, they could stay together. Maybe...  
Yeah, right, she thought. Maybe I can explain to him that I met him when he was twenty-eight or so? Maybe I can tell him that we had... something. Maybe I should grow wings and fly away, she thought to herself sarcastically.  
"Thanks for the ride," she said at last.  
"You're welcome. So..." he trailed off, an unspoken question hanging in the silence between them. "Good night," Alice said, her words carrying a note of finality.  
He looked a little let down, but simply nodded. "Good night," he replied. He turned, and started walking away.  
This could be the last time you ever see him, said a voice in Alice's head. She bit her lip, torn for a second, before she made a decision she knew she would probably regret.  
"Dean, wait," she said, hurrying after him. He turned as she reached him, staring at her quizically. She kissed him without another word, feeling his lips curving upward into a triumphant smile as his hands crept around her waist. She shuddered as he deepened the kiss. He felt and tasted only slightly different than he had the last time she had met him. He still tasted like whiskey, and something that she could only describe as Dean.  
She drew away from him after a moment, meeting his eyes.  
"Do you want to come with me? To my room," she said.  
He nodded. "Lead the way," he said.  
She took him around the side of the motel, fishing her key out of her pocket as she went. "Dean!" someone called from behind them.  
Dean winced, and turned to the speaker, a small boy carrying a bucket of ice.  
"I said to stay in the room, Sammy," Dean said.  
Alice's eyebrows shot up, and she looked the kid over with newfound interest. He was rather scrawny, and quite unremarkable, wearing tattered clothes that looked like they had seen hell.  
"I ran out of ice. Where have you been?" Sam asked. He spotted Alice, and a look of realization crossed his face. He grinned up at Dean. "Oh, I see," he said smugly.  
"Don't you dare," Dean said as if he could tell what Sam was thinking.  
"Why not? Dad said I should tell him if you left me alone to be with a girl," Sam said teasingly.  
"What do you want?" Dean asked in exhasperation.  
"I get control of the remote for two weeks," Sam said quickly. Dean narrowed his eyes at his younger brother.  
"Fine," he said.  
"Fine," Sam replied. He glanced back at Alice, before turning and ducking back around the corner, trying not to giggle.  
"Your younger brother?" Alice asked, though she already knew the answer.  
"Yeah... sorry about that," Dean said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.  
"Hey, don't worry about it. He's kind of cute," Alice said. "Awfully short, though. How old is he?"  
"Twelve," Dean replied.  
"Hmm. I'd watch out if I were you," Alice said, grinning. "I think he's going to be a tall one when he gets a bit older."  
She reached her room, and unlocked the door, stepping in. He followed her, and she closed the door behind him. She turned to him, and leaned up to place a chaste kiss to his lips, before drawing back and meeting his eyes. She remembered the last time they had done this. She usually shut the memory out, because it hurt. It hurt because it was something she thought that she could never do again, at least not with Dean.  
And yet, here she was. So why not remember now?  
She remembered his hesitation. She had been fourteen, and he had been so much older. There was no hesitation this time. Dean bent down and kissed her, gently, but firmly. Last time, he had seemed so desperate, because he had wanted Alice for days, maybe weeks before they slept together. This time, he was eager, but not desperate. He wanted her, but he didn't know her. He desired her, but he didn't need her the way he had before.  
Maybe he didn't feel the same about her as he would when he was a few years older, but whatever Alice had felt for him before was still there. She had ignored it for such a long time that she had managed to forget it, but now... now she was desperate again.  
She pulled him flush against her, winding her fingers into his hair and taking over the kiss. She steered them toward the bed, and let herself fall backwards, taking him with her. He made a small noise of surprise in the back of his throat, but adjusted quickly to being horizontal. Alice parted her legs and pulled him atop her, kissing him with a passion that she realized was probably puzzling to him. He did not seem to mind, however.

The rest of that night passed too quickly for Alice, and when the morning light crept through the tiny crack between her curtains, she found herself alone. She groaned, partly in disappointment, but mostly because of the headache that had settled deep within her skull. She had not known what to expect from sixteen year old Dean Winchester the morning after, but found that she was not particularly surprised. She also realized, too late, that she had been hoping to wake up with him next to her again, as she had so many years before.  
Alice struggled not to dwell on the events of the past twenty-eight hours as she packed up and prepared to head out. It was hard, even for Alice, who had more practice than most at blocking even the most horrible of memories. Physically seeing her grandmother, her younger self, and the Winchesters felt a bit like seeing ghosts. Not the kind she was used to seeing either. She was quickly finding that the ghosts of the imminently deceased were harder to banish than the ghosts of the well and truly dead.  
Alice was lost in a cloud of thought as she made her way to her car, a beat up camaro she had stolen. While she did not recall the exact route five-year-old her had taken with her Grandmother and sister on their way to kill some random demon, she did recall the name of the town after scanning a map of the area. Maybe she could get there in time, catch her grandmother, somehow change something... It was a long shot, probably a wild goose chase, but it was one that she was more than willing to embark upon. After all, she didn't see how she could make things turn out any worse than they had.  
I'll have to ditch this junk bucket pretty soon, she thought to herself. Driving around in stolen cars for too long was a good way to get yourself tossed in prison.  
"Alice! Hey!"  
Alice lifted her head at the interruption of her musings, unable to keep the surprise from her face as she spotted Dean sprinting across the parking lot. He was laden with plastic bags, and out of breath by the time he reached her. Alice's heart hammered in her chest as she puzzled over what was happening.  
Who cares? the less rational part of her clamored. He's not gone yet! He stopped you from going!  
"Hey," he said. "You're leaving?"  
Alice cleared her throat, recomposing herself quickly.  
"Uh, yeah," she said. "I, uh... I've got to catch up with... some people."  
"Your family? Grandmother and brother, right?" Dean guessed.  
"Sister," Alice corrected him, surprised and secretly delighted that he had remembered that much. "I'll be honest, I didn't think I'd be seeing you again."  
Dean flushed, looking embarrassed, and maybe a little guilty.  
"Yeah, I had to get some stuff for Sammy," he explained. "It's cool," Alice said quickly.  
There was a long silence between them. Alice didn't bother to hide the fact that she was staring at Dean, while he avoided her gaze uncomfortably.  
"I've got to hit the road," Alice reluctantly said after a few minutes.  
Dean nodded. "Hey, last night was awesome," he offered.  
Alice smirked. "I give it a b+," she teased.  
Dean took it well, laughing out loud at her jape. "Maybe I'll do better next time," he said.  
Alice's heart faltered for a moment as she realized that for him, there would be a next time. For her... that was significantly less certain. In that instant, it occurred to her that she could stay with Dean. They could work something out. She could tell him she was a hunter, offer to help him and his family, maybe explain to him someday about what would happen to them...  
But it would never work. John Winchester knew her. Their relationship was rocky at best. He was as likely to let her hang around his sons as an angel was to hobknob with a demon in a nudie bar. Not to mention that Alice had a chance to right her family's timeline, maybe her last chance. She couldn't walk away from it that easily.  
"I don't doubt it," she finally managed. She climbed into her car, and pulled out of her space. She poked her head out of the window, shooting him one last smile.  
"See you around, Winchester," she said, before driving off.

Dean watched her go. It wasn't until her car disappeared around a turn that he realized he had never given her his last name. In his line of work, throwing your last name around could be a fatal mistake, especially when it was as well known as his. You never knew who the person you were talking to or drinking with might turn out to be.  
Dean ran through last night again quickly in his head, and ultimately shrugged it off. He had probably let his last name slip on accident at some point. It probably wasn't a big deal.  
Dean was sure that there was nothing weird, or remotely dangerous about Alice.


End file.
